#the guilt of not finding him sooner eats him alive

[veraiku]

like you mad at me, baby !

─ ➤ In which he accidentally eavesdrops on your conversation with a friend regarding your fantasies of him going rough. and as your boyfriend, who was he to deny his pretty girlfriend?

⊹˙. ꒰ featuring ─ Yukimiya Kenyu x fem! reader ꒱ .˙⊹

** warnings : fem! reader, light cheek slapping (like twice), light choking, pet names (sweetheart, love, baby), p in v, mating press I think, unprotected sex (don’t try this at home !!), mentions of manhandling, and poorly written smut hehe ૮˶´ ᵕˋ ა . .

** note : hihi !! this is my first fanfic / drabble ever so I’m sorry if it’s weird + english isn’t my first language so please excuse the mistakes that are made .. and honestly I was half asleep making this fic LOL .. buut if you do enjoy, do consider reblogging maybe ;3 ? tqq !!

** wc : 1,565 words !

໒ ; be warned ! smut below the cut. ;

Yukimiya Kenyu has the patience of a saint. he’s sweet — kind, caring, the synonyms go as long as a grocery shopping list. and oh, not to mention his respect for women. it’s truly endearing how he’s not afraid to express that to you — how he’s not afraid to make sure that you know that you’re his first and last love. by carrying your groceries, giving his jacket when it’s cold out, he truly never fails to show how much he loves you.

now, he’s also not one to eavesdrop. he finds it truly disrespectful and meaningless. he’s sure to keep his ears and mind to himself whenever a phone call or conversation is happening around him — friend or not, even if it’s just a word he had heard — he doesn’t enjoy eavesdropping, no matter who it is talking.

but now, even if he hates to admit it, he’s slightly thankful that he eavesdropped a small bit on your conversation with a friend on the other line. even if the guilt is gnawing at him — eating him alive for even thinking on invading your privacy and for him to feel somewhat glad he did, another part of him wants to make your wishes come true.

“I dunno. it’s not that he doesn’t satisfy me — hell, he’s more than enough. I just want to know what he’s like if he’s a little rough, y’know what I mean?”

oh, he knows what you mean. he’s not shaming you for it — your wishes are completely valid and understandable. he has always been rather gentle and soft during intimacy — hands interlocked as he whispers praises into your ear, thrusts slow but deep — deep enough to hit that gummy spot inside of you and have your toes curling.

he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries, or do something you don’t like. the two of you have been in love for as long as he can remember, from where he was an unknown football player to a rising star of bastard münchen. he’d honestly rather lose his career than to lose you, because what would he ever do if his other half was missing?

chained by the worry of accidentally hurting you, he’s been keeping himself on his best behavior during intimacy, holding back the urge to start ravaging you and show you what he’s been wanting to do for so long. why else do you think he laces his fingers with yours gently, caressing your body affectionately while kissing every inch of your skin? even through the temptation he gets, from the talks in the locker rooms and the videos he’s watched — he has to hold himself and his thoughts together, trying to ignore the way his dick springs up at the thought of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails scratching his back to leave pretty marks as he fucks the life out of you.

after all, your pleasure and comfort was his top priority, he doesn’t blame you for wanting a change of pace. but as your boyfriend, it’s his duty to make your wishes come true — right?

“k-kenyu -! what’s — mmph, gotten i-into you..!”

oh, you sound and look so pretty. lips parted in ecstasy with your brows furrowed, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as you whine and writhe — if he knew this was what you wanted all along, he would’ve done this sooner, much much sooner. his grip on your legs grow tighter, making sure they don’t fall off his shoulders as he meanly drills his cock inside of your gummy walls.

“hm? thought this was what you wanted, sweetheart.” his tone was sickeningly sweet, as if he was comforting you on a bad day — as if his length wasn’t abusing your poor, sopping cunt. his glasses were folded neatly on the bedside table, as if he’s been planning on doing this for so long, as if he’s planned this from the very, very beginning.

what a silly question — he thinks. he could practically see the gears working in your head, as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to make out what he was trying to imply behind that sweet and soothing tone of his — even through the way he was molding your pretty pussy into the precise shape of his cock, to its tip down to its veins, through the way that he was slowly engraving his name on your brain.

“h-haah ? — what do y-you mean, Ken—”

“I overheard your conversation.”

he wastes little to no time on cutting you off of your words. he lifts your hips a little higher, angling his own to hit even deeper inside of you. to him, him overhearing your conversation was nothing more than a silly excuse to fuck you a little rougher than he usually would. he would never intentionally eavesdrop on any phone call you were having. he couldn’t bite back the chuckle bubbling in his chest as you still looked up at him, dazed and confused — trying to focus on him and his words.

“about you wanting me to go rough.”

he almost wants to laugh at the way your eyes widen, lips parting to say something to defend yourself — but once more, he cuts you off, this time — with a sharp thrust of his hips against yours, watching in amusement and pleasure as your words abruptly turn into a choked moan.

“ ‘m not mad, love.” he reassures gently, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your forehead, one hand leaving your thighs to move to cup your cheeks, his hold gentle yet firm, a huge contrast to the way the sound of skin slapping quickly filled the room. a sleazy grin tugs the corners of his lips, as he lets out a soft, shaky exhale.

“haah — though I did wish you could’ve told me sooner,” he breathed out gently, slowly finding himself lost in the feeling of your walls wrapped so snugly around him — pulling him in deeper like a drug.

“you d-don’t know how — ugh, long I’ve been wanting to do this.” his eyes take in the pretty sight below him, how your chest heaves and breasts bounce with each harsh thrust. his hand trails down from your chin to your left boob, squeezing it gently.

he snickers at the way your head was tilting to the side slowly, as if you were completely fucked out already — your vision blurry with tears.

“look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.” his hand gently slaps your cheek not once, but twice — gentle but firm enough to get your full attention. “makes me wonder. do you like it when I manhandle you, then?” tilting his head to the side slightly, his slender fingers trail down once more — wrapping around your pretty neck just enough to keep your head in place, pushing it against pillows gently.

“o-oh, yes — Kenyu, right there-!”

his cock hits that gummy spot inside of you which makes you loll your head back, the heel of your feet digging into his back as wanton moans escape your throat.

His brows knit together, soft grunts escaping his throat as he could feel you clench around him. it’s like his first time with you all over again. his hips moved at an inhuman speed — a speed he normally conserved for when he was on the field, whereas his goal would be to score the winning shot, but this time? his goal was to score his load into you as deep as he fucking could.

if his memory was bound to be erased, leaving him with only one choice on which memory he would like to keep, he would definitely choose this one.

shit. he could feel his dick twitching inside of you the more he took in the sight of his fingers wrapped around your throat, tears now streaming down your cheeks as the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls — his balls hitting against your hole so perfectly. and he’s trying not to shoot his load just yet, because God does he want this moment to last, but with the way your eyes are rolled to the back of your head? it’s proving to be much more difficult then he had originally thought.

it’s almost unfair how pretty you look. a light sheen of sweat coating your body, a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead due to said sweat. how can you expect him to last? this was so much better than his imagination, so so much better than the thoughts his mind would visualize out during those nights where he’d fist his cock tightly to the thoughts of you.

“I-I’m sorry,, Kenyu — d-didn’t mean it that way, I swear —“ you say in between thrusts, struggling to keep your voice loud enough for him to hear properly. you could make out the chuckle escaping his lips, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“now, what’s there to be sorry about, love?” he coos gently,

“If anything, jus’ gives me more of a reason to have your eyes rolling further to the back of your skull.”

— a/n ! : ts lowkey ass but it’ll have to do for now woopsies, hope you guys liked this !!

I do not give consent to plagiarize, copy, or translate in any form whatsoever — thank you!

[steddieas-shegoes]

guilt fades, scars remain

written as part of @st-loveconfessions february kindness event for today: write a fic based on art! the moment I saw this absolutely stunning art by @stervrucht, I knew I had to get some words out. @runninriot also wrote something inspired by this art and it's just as stunning as the art itself, you can find that here!

rated m | 1031 words | cw: blood and injury | tags: eddie munson lives, steve rescues eddie, eddie has a crush on steve, pre-relationship, open ending but assume they're getting together

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The tears drip. The rain hits the roof. The sweat builds along his hairline.

Eddie’s alone. He’s scared. He’s sick of feeling pain everywhere.

“Eddie?”

The voice is back. He should be happy. Hearing Steve’s voice is a relief compared to what he’s been feeling for so long. He’s not even sure how long he’s been stuck here. Hours, days, weeks?

Years?

“Eddie.”

The voice is clear, but it’s always clear. Sometimes it’s far, sometimes it’s close. It sounds worried, but talking back to it doesn’t help.

He’s sure of only one thing: Steve Harrington’s voice is a balm on his nerves and patience alike. If he can’t have the real Steve saving him, he’s glad he at least has his voice in his ears.

Cool hands are covering his naked chest. It feels so nice, like an ice pack on an injury.

He supposes he does have an injury. Probably a lot if the shooting pains across his side and legs are anything to go off of.

“Eddie, hey.”

Eddie blinks. His vision focuses.

“There you go. Keep your eyes open. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry we kept you waiting so long.”

Eddie’s got tunnel vision, which is weird for a hallucination. Or maybe it’s not. He’s only done shrooms once and he barely even hallucinated before he passed out.

Eddie reaches one hand up to try to feel if Steve is real. He touches bare skin and he laughs.

“‘S fake.”

Steve’s got a lot of hair on his chest, he remembers from when he jumped into the lake. He remembers thinking how nice it must be to fall asleep on his chest, run his fingers through the soft hair there.

“What’s fake?” Steve asks.

An interactive hallucination is very strange, but it’s a nice distraction from the pain. It fades in and out like the intro and outro to songs. He’s gotta figure out how to put this into music.

“You,” he answers. There’s still no other voices and there’s no way Steve would rescue him alone. No one would let him come down here alone. “Me.”

“We’re not fake, Eddie. I knew we should’ve come back sooner. You’re fuckin’ delirious,” Steve sounds panicked now, and Eddie doesn’t want that. Hallucination Steve should be relaxed.

“Calm. Hurts, but calm.”

He’s being lifted up slowly and he’s sitting for the first time since the bats started trying to eat him. Feels a little weird, something internally screams, and then he realizes he’s actually screaming externally.

Steve’s trying to keep him calm and quiet, shushing him as he pulls him to his shoulder, hand tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s nice, smelling something that’s not the stench of the Upside Down or his own blood. Feeling something human where all he’s known is dirt and ash.

“It’s gonna hurt for a few minutes, but it’ll be worth it,” Steve’s saying in his ear.

Eddie raises an arm. It hurts. It’s not as bad as when he sat up, but it’s more pain than he should be feeling.

He must make a noise because Steve’s burying his nose into Eddie’s hair and it feels intimate in a way that doesn’t belong here. This place is broken, Eddie is broken, and Steve is stable.

“I’m gonna lift you up. Is anything broken?” Steve whispers against the side of his head.

Eddie hopes he remembers all of this. He hopes when he wakes up— if he wakes up— the first thought he has is about Steve touching him like this, making him feel alive and precious, worthy.

He must’ve answered Steve because he feels the ground fall out from under him and then searing pain in his side. Steve’s carrying him and he’s going to black out from the pain.

“Just a few minutes. Just hang on a few minutes. For me, Eddie,.”

Eddie can do anything in his dreams, so he hangs on for a while and then everything goes dark.

++++

“Eddie.”

The voice again.

It’s not clear this time, but he knows it’s Steve.

“Eddie, wake up.”

He blinks his eyes open and immediately closes them again, whining at the obnoxious bright light right in his eyes. If heaven is this bright, he’s not interested.

“Sorry. Let me turn those off.”

Steve’s voice is clearer now, sinking into his brain as the memories start to float back to him. Steve saved him. Steve showed up in the Upside Down shirtless and-

“Where was your shirt?” Eddie asks, voice raspy and trembling. He sounds as weak as he feels.

“My…shirt?” Steve asks.

“Y’were naked,” Eddie continues. “Nipples everywhere.”

Steve lets out a bark of a laugh and Eddie is going to combust. Making Steve laugh might be the best thing he’s ever done in his life…or death, if he’s dead.

“I was using it to stop the blood on your leg,” Steve explains. “It was still bleeding.”

He sounds…haunted.

“Did I die?”

Eddie focuses on Steve, the way he holds himself as if he’s in trouble, the way he won’t look directly at Eddie’s face. He’s guilty, but Eddie can’t imagine why.

“No. I don’t know how, but no.”

“You saved me.”

“I was almost too late.”

Eddie hums in protest. He’s too tired to argue, but he knows he’s right. Steve saved him. It doesn’t matter how long it took, or how many shirts were ruined in the process. He’s alive.

“C’mere,” Eddie whispers.

Steve steps closer. Eddie manages to grip his shirt, not tight, but enough for Steve to look down and then back up, finally settling on his face.

“Y’did good,” Eddie says. He closes his eyes hoping that’ll conserve energy to say what he needs to. “Thank you.”

“Eddie-“

“Sit. Sleep.”

He’s not sure if Steve listens because he’s already drifting back out of consciousness, but he can feel the weight of Steve’s hand in his and he’s pretty sure he’s not gonna let go.

When he wakes up, he still feels Steve’s hand in his.

His eyes flutter open to see Steve asleep in the chair next to his bed.

Shirt on, unfortunately.

[demonslayedher]

Giyuu's not antisocial, he's a nice guy who cares a lot

It's very easy to find Giyuu overly cold or thoroughly convinced that everyone hates him, but this is the guy who very confidently stated, "I am not disliked."

So like, even though he believes he doesn't deserve to be counted among the Hashira, much less the Corp, and he carries a heck of a lot of survivor's guilt, to the point that he probably hates himself, but he doesn't have any reason to believe other people hate him. Nobody has seen how much he doesn't deserve to be alive, and nobody's been outright mean to him. They just don't know. They don't know how much better it would have been for Sabito to be in this place instead.

Giyuu tries not to get in the actual Hashiras' way and all. That's just him being considerate; he's trying not to be dead weight while being a placeholder in the Water Hashira position. That's why instead of mingle where he doesn't deserve to mingle, he stays to himself to train.

And then when he meets that boy in the forest who has just been through the worst experience of his life and is about to lose the only family he has left, like, yeah, Giyuu knows what he has to do and what this boy has to hear if he has any hope of standing up against the wrongs that have been done to his loved ones. He's been there, Giyuu knows how tempting is just want to give up and die right there after losing your family. But in his heart!! This is why Giyuu is rooting so hard for that boy!!! And that's making his mouth just run and run and run, because he so passionately wants to see this boy not give in to the overwhelming grief.

And then!!! Oh!!! There really might be new hope in this sibling pair!! The boy has a surprising knack for this, he even has a sense of smell like Urokodaki, there is hope that the Corp will finally get a Water Hashira again! The girl, defying her compulsion to eat and give in to her demon nature, is a sign that even a change like this can--and has!--occurred among demons, a strange cause for hope in hundreds of years of endless violence!

And Giyuu treats that demon--no, that girl--kindly and gently as he dresses her in a clean kimono (which he presumably... already had? Or he ran with Hashira speed to the Kamado house?) and nicely crafted muzzle. He cares so much about the hope these siblings may bring that he watches over them until the boy wakes up so he can make sure to tell him about Urokodaki and that he shouldn't let his sister be exposed to sunlight. (EDIT: Oh my gosh, yes, @yoiiyoii you are absolutely right in your tags, Tanjiro put that clean kimono on Nezuko before taking her down the mountain; that's why it didn't have blood stains!)

And then, presumably, Giyuu feels alight with hope for a while! Maybe only a realistic amount, but still, he's encountered something stunning enough to make him choose to leave a demon alive, much less care for her welfare. We know he trusted Urokodaki with them, and we know Urokodaki later wrote a letter, but I must wonder, did Giyuu tell Kagaya about Nezuko? He'd of course have trusted him. He probably felt responsible to report the matter. But there's also the chance that he didn't feel it was his place to bother Kagaya, because he's not a Hashira and does not deserve the master's attention.

But everything else goes on being as frustrating as always. There are still many nights when Giyuu doesn't make it in time. People die because of his failures. Maybe Sabito would have made it.

And he goes on like this, year after year of being a placeholder while the Water Hashira position is left empty. The other Hashira are all working so hard, and they would be helped so much by having someone like Sabito around.

On a night like any other, Giyuu finds a bunch of slain Corp members. If only he had come sooner. He hurries to help any other survivors, and finds a weird one in a boar mask who needs to be tied up if he's going to survive the night. It's for his own good that Giyuu took the trouble. (And presumably he carries rope around like he carries around spare kimono and woodworking tools.)

Giyuu finds another Corp member he can save, and slays the demon responsible for all this. But that boy he saved is ridiculously showing sympathy for it. He's even more ridiculous than Kochou, who obviously doesn't mean it whenever she makes that insensitive joke about humans and demons getting along. It's completely irrational and thinking like that seriously will just get more people killed--

--oh!!! It's that boy!!! And that girl!!!!!

And yes, he does need to act fast to prevent Kochou from killing the girl over a misunderstanding, and she's right to act that way without knowing the full story, but then one the immediate danger has passed, Giyuu's back to not bothering the Hashira. He knows it's not his place. But man, how he hopes this is going to go over well. He really had to have put faith in Kagaya being understanding.

Ok, but also, like, he's never given anyone a reason to dislike him?? He never bothered them, he didn't think???? Who? Who is it that dislikes him? Is it everyone????? They hate having a fraud around, don't they? That must be it. Nobody would have this problem if Sabito was there instead. He's going to stay far out of the way and make doubly sure he's not going to bother anyone with his completely undeserved existence.

But here in the moment, Giyuu is willing to stake his undeserved life on his faith in that demon girl, and he wants so badly for that boy to go on to be the Water Hashira the Corp so desperately needs, but if it doesn't go that way, Giyuu is just going to have to deal with it. It's out of his hands; he is not in a position to speak for them, but he has such faith in them that he will stand against the Hashira if it is necessary for saving those children in a moment of tension.

The relief Giyuu must have felt when the Hashira tacitly accepted letting them live and stay in the Corp! Maybe even that glimmer of hope again. That boy still has a long way to go before he can take the Water Hashira position, but Urokodaki has trained him, and he's well on his way. He's already come so far in standing up for himself and for his sister; this boy is really it! How eager Giyuu must have felt for him to keep gaining the experience he needs!

The Corp loses yet another Hashira in Giyuu's span of filling a hole. The sooner that boy can prepare himself for the position, the better.

And!!! It's working!! He helps defeat an Upper Moon!! But Giyuu's stomach must have been filled with dread when he didn't wake up, and when he must have heard about how close Nezuko came to dashing all his hopes.

But! Almost as soon as the boy wakes up, he helps defeat another Upper Moon!! That makes three for the Corp; the tides really have been changing ever since those siblings appeared. It won't be much longer until the boy attain enough strength to match the others and serves the Corp as a master of Water Breath---

wait wtf is Hinokami Kagura

Poor Giyuu!! His poor hopes, drowned!! Of course he was upset. He's been waiting so long for this important position the Corp relies on to finally be filled. By someone who deserves it. Someone who would have made it in time, all those times. Someone like Sabito.

This boy isn't like Sabito.

So it's back to zero, as far as Giyuu's personal hopes and desires are concerned. Oh, but that girl mastered the sun. Yay... whoo...

That means the progenitor of demons will be out to get her, and the Corp now faces a bigger threat than ever. Giyuu's best going back to what he's always done, all these years.

Train on his own so that he's not a burden or a failure. Stay out of the Hashiras' way. Stay out of the whole Corp's way, since he doesn't deserve to be there in the first place.

They all deserve Sabito.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[hard-core-super-star]

she had the world [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x stark!reader

summary: your first meeting with the future inheritor of bishop security doesn't go as planned and, unfortunately for the two of you, first impressions matter.

warnings: none, i think; enemies-to-lovers vibe but in an accidental way aka kate's a well-intentioned idiot but her comments don't land well; i haven't watched the iron man films in years and this AU definitely doesn't fit the real MCU timeline but shhhhh, just roll with it

wordcount: 944

a/n: wrote this for my lovely 🧞‍♀️ anon who requested an expansion of this headcanon set. i was originally only going to just do another headcanon set but i decided to try my hand at writing a mini-fic. it's sort of a prologue for a longer fic i may or may not write at some point. i just love this little AU i accidentally created so...we'll see what happens. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This is ridiculous,” you grumble as you mess with the top button of your slightly wrinkled shirt. “If the owner of the company couldn’t bother to show up, why do I have to?”

Your comment makes Happy chuckle, although he’s quick to pull himself back together the second he catches sight of the glare Pepper throws his way.

“Listen, I know it’s not an ideal way to spend your night but it’s better than a long meeting with boring investors.”

“Tony wouldn’t show up to those either so my question still stands,” you counter.

This time, you’re the one on the receiving end of the blonde’s glare. She hates when you refer to your dad by his name despite the fact that he couldn’t care less what you call him as long as he’s able to stay in your good graces. Tony Stark has many flaws but he’s not the world’s worst father...even if every news outlet in the world tries to make it seem that way.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, y/n, but you’re going to be responsible for Stark Industries sooner or later. I’m only trying to help you here.” Her tone leaves no room for arguments so you don’t even try, you just look out the window until you reach your destination.

You’re not about to admit it but Pepper’s right. 

Tony has enough on his hands dealing with the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords to spend any time on Stark Industries. Especially when “spending time on '' is equal to going to awful parties and meeting the CEO of every new company that shows up.

Which is a lot harder than it seems considering the amount of “entrepreneurs” living in New York.

So, that means it’s up to you and Pepper to keep the family business afloat. You handle all the public appearances and she makes sure nothing goes wrong regarding the technical and economic side of things. Meanwhile, Tony spends his days fixing up his old Iron Man suits and trying not to let his guilt eat him alive. (He’s failing miserably but at least he still spends time with you)

You’re not happy about the situation you all find yourselves in but it’s not like you can do anything about it. 

Which is how you end up bored out of your mind at a stuffy party hosted by the owner and CEO of Bishop Security. You’ve heard the name in passing, mainly by a frustrated Pepper trying to deny suspicious meetings on your behalf. You don’t know much about Eleanor Bishop but you’ve heard her daughter’s name far too many times to act like you don’t know who they are.

Unfortunately, no amount of rumors could have prepared you for the reality of coming face-to-face with Kate Bishop.

You bump into her, literally, on your way to talk to Pepper in hopes of convincing her that having spent two hours at the party is enough. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” She instantly apologizes and any hope of appearing annoyed fades away instantly. “I, uh, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Her words leave your mind spinning so you reply without thinking, accidentally channeling the small pieces of Tony Stark that live within you. “Should I be worried about that?”

Kate blinks back her surprise at your tone. “I hope not. It’s just…you’re y/n Stark, right?”

There’s a certain amount of awe in her voice that should be flattering but you’ve been burned far too many times to fall for it. Even if her words are accompanied by a genuine smile.

“That depends on what you’re going to say next,” you say, settling somewhere between cautious and unwelcoming.

“Well, I’m sort of a really big fan of the Avengers.”

You hate how adorable she looks with those stupidly soft eyes and fidgeting hands. She might mean well but the Avengers are a sore spot for you and certainly not one you’re going to talk about with someone you don’t know. (Especially when she’s technically supposed to be your main competition)

“Save your breath, Bishop,” you reply with an almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t want to hear it.”

You attempt to walk away from her but she’s far too quick. Her hand reaches out to grasp your forearm and you do your best not to look affected by how strong her grip is. “Hold on, what are you talking about? I thought you were part of the team too.”

“That’s none of your business. Don’t you have something better to do? Maybe yet another girl you’ll ditch by the end of the week?” 

Your comment is a low blow and one that heavily relies on gossip forums dedicated to the brunette. Gossip forums that you merely visited due to curiosity and not because you saw one of Kate’s Instagram posts and immediately ran to check if she likes girls too. (Somehow the jury is still out according to most news outlets but her list of rumors is almost as long as your own)

She’s genuinely speechless after that and you don’t dare give her time to recover. You’re being an asshole, you’re aware of it, but there’s something about the way she looks at you that terrifies you. Something that tells you she already knows the secrets that lie unspoken in the depths of your mind. 

And you hate it.  

So you run.

You force your arm out of her grasp and walk away from her.

She doesn’t put up a fight this time, she merely watches you go with the distinct feeling deep in her gut that she messed up her one chance with you.

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different ( Joel Miller x reader ) part two

Summary : news of peaches arrival spreads through town , she gets a visit from the sheriff after her lawyer contacts him . little bye little peach is opening up to the new found friends of hers .

Warnings : mentions and allusions to past domestic abuse , learning to be free of the past , slow burn , no outbreak au

Wildfires didn’t spread as quickly as the news of Y/N arrival back to town, all they heard was about the run away and her family history all different versions of events where hushed like whispers  some stated she ran  because her mother made her , some  decided she was as bad as her father other just saw a scared kid but either way they all had an opinion on the matter . she notice when she would go into town whether it was for groceries ,  take out or even simple errand all eyes on her , mouths moving to their own agenda on the matter.  No one cared to hear the truth  and the truth wouldn’t of mattered not when their minds were already made it . she was starting to think it was bad idea , she felt suffocated under their view.

The miller brothers heard it all , they heard the whispers or out right warnings to stay away when it came to the life of y/n it was nothing but trouble or she brought trouble where ever she went. 

“ she ain’t trouble , she good girl who got caught in a shit storm that life threw her” maria said . the woman was good friends with Y/N’s mother grace , she seen it all from the teen girl with stars in her eyes to the broken one with no light in them at all . 

“ we know that , she nice i mean she shy as hell but she nice girl” tommy nodded along to his brothers words . she  didn’t interact much he chalked it down to wary of strangers and giving the horrendous past she suffered by her father he didn’t blame her one bit . 

“ smart girl two she used to drop by sunday morning to get the empty bottle and cans to recycle i realized she got money fer em but i didn’t mind saved me money on dumpster fees ” the bartender jimmy chuckled placing their drinks down . 

“ she was trying to save money so her and her mama could get new house poor thing” maria sighed sadly the whole thing still haunted her decade later it kept her up sometimes thinking what if she done something different. 

“ her dad still alive?” tommy asked. 

“ sadly yes although death would be too good fer um i hope he’s suffering til his last breathe for what he did” she shuddered . 

It wasn’t all bad being home she had few good people in her corner one being the sherif  , a pie in hand  from his wife . 

“ you look kid” he smiled softly maybe the guilt was eating at him for not helping sooner she presumed  why he was stood at her front door.  Wasn’t his fault he tried but he was only a deputy at the time one that no one gave time of day either. 

“ thanks for this it looks yummy i’ll share it with my pop when he comes by later” she said moving to the side letting him enter . “ it’s a mess just fixing it up” she explain as he  seen the boxes all about . 

“ no need to apologize at all , reason i’m here is because a lawyer got in contact with me yesterday about a restraining order transferring it to this state , are you in trouble?” he asked, arching his brow. Her tensing told him all he needed to know. 

“ figure Nathan would make sure things were legit , it’s just incase my ex husband shows up which he won't , he don’t know i’m here i wont cause no problem sherif” she began rambling her hands shaking to point she nearly dropped the pie . 

“ aint what i ask sweet girl , you in trouble?” he asked softer. 

“ you know that saying girls marry their father well  i proved that one right  i got divorced thinking that it would end but didn’t he followed me everywhere i went til my friends decided i needed to coming get away somewhere he would never find me , i never told him where i was from at first was cause i didn’t want him to pity me or see me as weak but i guess he already spotted that one like he sniffed it out, one night he was locked up  , they packed my stuff up gave me a car and told me to go as far away as possible  , nathan and his wife mia  , nathan got me the divorce , the restraining orders and everything” she sat tear falling down her cheeks , her heart hurting in her chest. 

“  He passed on some reports and pictures too , you need me  kid  , don’t matter if it's day or night you call me here’s my personal cell and home phone you can’t get me in station well you ring me here” he  patted her back . “ failed you before it ain’t happening again , i ain’t told anyone about this either  except my wife she never been one fer gossip” he smiled wiping her tear away. 

“ Thanks sherif” she sniffled. 

“ What can i do you for ron” john cleared his throat seeing the patrol car parked out front. 

“ it’s ok pop he’s just checking if i’m ok nathan contacted him” she stood. 

“ he’s not here is he”  her grandfathers eyes widened. 

“ nah but if he ever does be a sorry son of a bitch that’s for sure” sheriff shook his head. 

“ I made chili, would you like to stay for some” she called walking into the kitchen . 

“ you know what i think i will smell great ” he chuckled .

“ best chili in texas” her grandfather relaxed patting the  man on the back as they walked in only to see joel and tommy miller standing at her door worried. “ y’all want some chili” he asked . 

“ do they know?” he whispered.

“ know what?” joel asked as she  walked out . 

“ i’m on the run and sheriff here to collect his bounty” she joked . 

“ about her daddy , i’m sure towns folk told em” john lied . 

“ come on food will be cold by time your finish gossiping like sewing circle” she rolled her eyes  although she hating people lying for her some time it was easier  , less in the mess of her life  was the best.

“ yes ma’am “ the called in unison . 

What she didn’t know the one invitation seem to open to more , soon the millers or sherif aswell his wife would drop by more  and more.  The brother would help with her renovations when they could and she in turn would pay them in food although she was so close off she was opening up little bits . she stopped flinching at loud noises , stop giving them clearly fake reason to not help it was little victory both men and her grandfather were happy to see . 

Today they were painting the living room  her grandfather , miss benson and sheriff and his wife sat in the kitchen apparently they nagged too much so like kids were shift out of site til john here it  , the sound that had him almost knocking his chair to the floor  in the rush to the source. 

There she was running away from joel who chased her and tommy with a paint brush laughter coming from her mouth a sound he hasn’t heard in such along time it brought tears to his eyes as the other smiled fondly on . 

“ pop you ok” she stood worry lacing her feature. 

“ i’m fine peach , just good to see you happy” he smiled wiping his cheeks . 

“ well i hope they don’t act like this on the site” she laughed again as tommy stuck his tongue out at her. 

“ nah they’re worse” he chuckled heading her way not caring for her protests of paint all over her  hell he swim in a pool of paint for that smile he thought was lost forever . 

“ he’s gone so soft in his old age” miss benson teased . 

“I ain’t old” he shot back . 

“ young at heart” peach laughed louder. 

Part three

[simp-ly-writes]

In My Arms

Can be read as a standalone: In My Shadow (pt.4 - final)

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Shadow!Reader

Summary: Will Graves ever find you in his office and in his arms again or has karma finally come for men like Philip?

Warnings: Some canon divergence.

A/N: ...so its been awhile...

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

Everyone refused to talk to their commander as he stormed off the plane and slammed the door to his office. Throwing off his helmet, it rolled around on the floor before he screamed in frustration. "So close to achieving perfection- and this is what I get dished," he voices out into the room in a bitter tone before clearing his desk to the floor and pulling out another map from storage.

Phoning up an old friend, Alejandro. "I need you to pay that favour now- my friend."

"And of is this?" the leader of Los Vaqueros replied with a slight laughter-filled tone."

"A significant member of my company has been stolen."

"You should have started with that."

--

↳ Your fellow brothers and sisters work hard with Graves in order to track you down while receiving their fare share of threatening determination of their position. Everyone knew better on base than to come in between him and his mission of you at the current moment 

↳ Philip has lost all of his patience as he works through night and day, gaining support through many of his past military friends throughout the world alongside private organizations. It was all hands on deck as his office became a downright wreck, he winced at the scene he stood in, knowing just how disappointed you would be in both the appearance of himself and of the room

↳ The commander looked worse for wear, he had not shaved in weeks, his hair lacking the usual styling he implemented alongside wearing black all day and night regardless of it being a civilian outing or uniform attire. Bags underneath his eyes while his hands shook by the caffeine intake in his system, he took multiple over-the-sea calls to Laswell and her team that was no less as scrambled than his own.

↳ 141 had yet to report back though from the remaining footage they had in system memories, they should have made it out just in time, cursing out Graves begins to pray. Pray that when he finds you again, you are breathing. Prays that you would forgive him for not being able to find you sooner, and forgive him for even placing you on the mission in the first place. He grabs at his hair, guilt eating him alive for being too confident, too cocky as many others countlessly reminded him- it appeared that karma was finally catching up to the commander and he was distraught. 

↳ An low ranking officer stumbles into the room, sibling the lukewarm coffee they were meant to deliver all over themselves as a stream of swears comes pouring out their mouth. Graves still requests the drink forward as he downs it, reaching around his desk for a smoke as he signals the officer to leave him be. Looking through the maps of the surrounding area, he curses out, nothing seems to add up

↳ It would be another week until a grain feel, filled with just the small dose of information the intelligence teams so desperately needed. The drug smuggling organization had a nearby headquarters underground in the sewage treatment system as Graves winced at the pictures that Laswells team had received as Alejandro mumbled down the line all the information he knew about this organization 

↳ Finally in what would be reaching a month, the teams were ready to be deployed and Graves was trigger happy. Thirsting for revenge as he slips his loves on and straps his helmet to his head, with one final nod, the doors of the trucks opened and boots flooded the scene. 

↳ Screams, blood, and gore flooded Graves senses yet he was all familiar with these horrors as he relentlessly scanned room after room for signs of life, for signs of you. The sound of chocking had Graves spriting as a few other shadows nearby came to join the attack. Bursting into the room, the assistant shadows cleared the guards as Graves had you down his sights. A man held you by the neck with his belt. Ou feet scraping against the floor, trying to flee as your face grew red- lacking oxygen. 

↳ Your eyes screamed for help to your commander, your tears pleaded as Philip took a singular breath and pulled the trigger. You closed your eyes awaiting the sweet release of death to only find yourself taking laboured breaths as arms wrapped around your finger, pulling you into a tactical vest as you gripped each of the compartments for support. 

↳ Your ears were ringing from the adrenaline of it all, not being able to hear your commanders demands for your current health. A small smile found its way across your lips as you were being carried into the back of a medical evacuation vehicle, a gloved hand squeezing your own as you pulled his hand into your lap. His eyes wide as his body soon fell closer to you and his breath hitched when your lips connected to his own. You whispered a thank you against them soon after as he stumbled for apologies for you only to smother each and every one of them 

↳ When returning back to base, 141 members fully recovered from their own tortures made joking comments on your relationship with a certain commander on how it took you both almost dying to admit you loved one another, completely and wholeheartedly. You refused to not continue working at the company much to Graves protests yet found even ground when becoming the COO beside him on the board and taking a more strategic position staying back on base. 

↳ Your engagement didn’t come a moment later as Graves panicked in wanting to have enough time with you before the chance of another series of events happening like this to either of you. The ceremony was grand, friends and family being thrown into a fully-rented out ranch where you danced under the stars together, held a few too many drinks and woke up with breakfast in bed the morning after

↳ Looking at your hand to the wedding band seemingly out of place in your black uniform, you couldn't help but chuckle on how a simple email had landed you here as arms wrap themselves around your waist, stubble ticking its way up your neck as they smile into a kiss. “I love you,” Philip states while looking at you in the mirror, looking up from his hands at at him too you whisper the same, heart beating rapidly at the sight of his eyes crinkling from the soft words shared just as a colonel comes running in with a folder filled with new contracts and heads to roll on the floor.

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Eco

Chapter Eleven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Bela, Dick Roman and Kobe Bryant mentioned (look, he wasn't supposed to be here but I did my research and well, he had to be), Anael, faceless paps

Word Count: 1683 with pictures

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, tour planning, brunch and shopping with Bela, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

“Okay, well the official schedule from the touring company arrived, so I have maybe a week to set up the promo interviews before they announce it publicly,” you said over the phone.

“Yeah, with Crowley it’s probably gonna be sooner. Annie’s gotta find someone to step in for the whole year with this so she’s already interviewing. Let me know if you need anything, because I’m just sitting on my hands until we’re actually rolling out,” Bobby replied solemnly.

The give me something to do, please, was implied.

“Check with Benny and his boys, I know the label is supplying some guys too, but I trust you to secure the crew and security schedules,” you said as you made another note on your ever increasing list of to do’s.

Two months may have seemed like a long time, but it was the shortest turn around you’d had for a tour since taking over as publicist for Phantom Traveler and you’d be damned if you fucked it up.

“With the holidays coming up, we’ll be in a pinch to get everything nailed down. But all the commotion with Bela and everything, people will be chomping at the bit to get actual news,” you added, staring unfocused at your computer monitor.

“And he’s got that interview coming up you said, just Dean for that one?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I really hope Meg doesn’t eat him alive. But it’s his chance to give his side of things and for people to see where his head is at now.”

“The sassy little brunette, right?”

“The very one.”

“Is it going to be a tit-for-tat thing? Is Cas gonna be next for a tell-all?”

“Bobby, I don’t think Cas would do an interview and talk bad about Dean even if they paid him. He’s moved on.”

“If you say so, Dean didn’t exactly play nice.”

“He must have had hundreds of offers for the dirt since leaving the band. And everything I hear about him now is just about the kid he’s working with and how they’re creating something unique.”

“I just know how that reporter liked him— the last time.”

“I’m sure she’s going in with the bias against Dean here. Time will tell if she can be swayed,” you admitted. “Plus, Dean won't be alone. We made sure there'll be a few of us there to make it easier.”

“To keep him from making a damned fool of himself you mean.”

“Basically.”

Bobby sat on the other end of the line with his gruff silence before continuing, “you going home for Christmas?”

“Yeah, got the usual stuff with my folks for Christmas Eve then I’m helping Ellen on Christmas day. I’m flying so I won’t be gone more than a few days. Probably end up spending half of it at airports with my luck.”

“Okay, just checkin’.”

“You guys have any plans?”

“Just service on the night before and maybe something with Annie’s cousins. Might just be a train of open houses.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I’d enjoy myself.”

You laughed and wrapped it up with a promise to touch base before you left town. The next two days were a whirlwind of emails and phone calls. You put off confirming brunch with Bela for Sunday, but relented from guilt, as she now had regular visits from paparazzi outside her townhouse due to her and Dean’s night club-hopping. You finished up your Saturday errands and plopped yourself onto your stationary bike in a last ditch effort to fend off your restlessness until it was a reasonable enough time to crash.

God, your life was so exciting.

Bela poured you another glass from the endless pitcher of mimosas. “Anyway, I guess Dean got us tickets to the Lakers’ game tomorrow night, like I actually care about baseball.”

“Basketball,” you corrected, taking a sip.

“Exactly,” Bela smirked.

“How good are the tickets? He doesn’t really follow it either,” you continued, worried they’d be in an embarrassing section.

“I think he said something about getting the label’s box for the game?” She tried to play innocent.

You almost spit out your drink. “The entire box?”

“It’s not floor seats’ exposure, but it will be worth it at least. I think he said he called in a favor with Dick?”

“Dick Roman is giving Dean access to his exclusive luxury box at the Staples Center?” You were floored, you opened your phone and googled who they were playing. “Holy fuck, they’re retiring Kobe’s number tomorrow. It’s going to be insane. There’s no way that box isn’t gonna be packed, but at least you can bump elbows with the uppity ups.”

“Kobe Bryant, yeah? He was quite prolific,” Bela seemed pleased. 

“Uh, yeah, played his whole career here,” you added, but put your phone away. Unwilling to text Dean a ‘wtf’ text while you still had another hour of drinks and foodstuffs to get through. “What are you going to wear?”

Bela slid her most compelling face on. “I was hoping we could find something together. It’s been ages since we drunk shopped. Plus, it’s the holidays so I will need to be a bit tipsy if I want to deal with the crowds.”

You had literally nothing left to buy for Christmas, but drunk shopping was a time-honored tradition between the two of you. Plus, it was fun watching Bela work her magic and pull a stunning outfit together out of seemingly discordant pieces.

“Three stores and I’m getting my own ride home, missy,” you warned with a firm pointer finger.

“Of course!” Bela chuckled and tucked into her eggs, eyes flitting back to you with conspiratorial delight.

You finished off your mimosa and finally saw to your french toast.

Bela’s driver took you to all of her favorite haunts and naturally she weaseled her way in to see the best stylists, at least those who were actually on hand on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. At Sister Jo’s boutique, the owner herself greeted Bela with a double cheek kiss and hug. 

“What are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me, you need an outfit asap because your little rocker boy toy needs arm candy,” the woman, who was actually named Anael, teased.

“You know me too well,” Bela replied. “This is my dear friend, Y/N, and we’re a bit on the tilt from brunch, but I simply had to come see you. I need something casual and sexy. It’s for a basketball game.”

You waved as she nodded in your direction, not wanting to break the momentum.

Anael frowned and looked Bela over, with much consideration. Then she hummed before asking, “how do you feel about hats?”

Nearly two hours and a top off on champagne later (to keep your buzzes going), you and Bela walked out of the shop with a bag each and a receipt ensuring Bela would be back in the morning for the alterations on the remaining garments.  

“Well, I’d say that was a successful outing,” Bela said with pride, the pink in her cheeks the only hint of her lingering inebriation.

“I’d say,” you agreed, opening the back door of her pre-ordered ride. “I still can’t believe they had something that would work for me for New Year’s.”

Bela waited on the curb until she could slide in the other side, but continued your trail of thought. “Anael is good people, if she likes something, she carries it. Doesn’t matter the size or price, she is all about how an outfit makes you feel,” Bela explained.

“Well, it worked, because I just spent more on myself than I have the entire year because of how good it felt on, so I get it,” you said, patting the bag at your feet.

Bela confirmed your address with the driver and then hers, thanking them for going out of their way in a way that she wasn’t actually apologizing for being a burden.

“You got eyes on you lady,” the driver warned, pointing towards the corner where a camera lens was trained on the car.

“Ignore them, they’ll find someone else before they follow us very far,” Bela promised and you could see her almost glaring at the rearview mirror for the driver to get the lead out.

You sat on the couch in your robe and sleep pants, hair still wet and wrapped on top of your head. You had crashed for a late afternoon nap after shopping and had rebounded with a blissfully long shower and skincare treatment. Now you watched mind numbing television and plotted out your schedule for the coming week. Even though it was cut short with holiday travels, it was full-to-bursting with things to get done.

You sighed and dragged out your suitcase from under your bed, dropped it on the couch and unzipped it to start packing. At least you could watch something while you organized. 

Just after ten your phone buzzed with a text message. You ignored it for a minute until you could find the remote beneath your pile of socks and paused your Lord of the Rings rewatch.

You stared at the conversation with the movie still paused, dumbfounded. One, that Dean sent you a goodnight text of all things and secondly that he was going to willingly give Bela his phone to post on social media about them. Because it’s not official until they’re both posting each other, or so they say. This was going to be big for the fan girls. You already knew Becky would be emailing you the second she saw it. But as far as fanclub presidents went, she wasn’t the worst. Then again, she would be more than a little bitter if Sam and Madison were the ones flaunting their relationship.

You put a reminder in your calendar to cover an extra sweep of SM while you were waiting out Dean’s interview Tuesday morning and then you tossed your phone back amongst your clothes. You were done for the night and so you shoved your half-packed suitcase on the floor and restarted the movie.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twelve: Hook

[roping-riding-wrangling]

Eyes Without A Face

Previous

Alone in his car, you listen to the sounds of the Clash. “This,” Jonathan nods towards the radio, “was Will’s favorite song?”

“Is” you correct him. “Will’s still alive.”

Jonathan huffs out a gentle, “yeah.”

“Anyway, really? He's like 11, I’m surprised his favorite song isn’t Rainbow Connection or something.”

Jonathan has a faraway look in his eyes, one that tells you he’s not really paying attention to your attempts to cheer him up. “Jonathan,” you begin, “I’m serious. He’s gonna be okay.”

Summary: Y/n and Bob finally talk, Jon and Y/n go casket shopping and run into a familiar face

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: Newby!reader, swearing, signs of depression/dissociation, anxiety, mentions of death (including child death)

Its the first morning this week that you haven’t felt deeply exhausted when you wake up. Despite the fact that you wake up in yesterday’s clothes, you can’t deny how rested you feel. Of course, coffee is still a necessity. 

You walk out to the kitchen and are surprised to find your dad already sitting at the table. A full mug waits for you. You give him a soft smile and a “thanks” before taking a seat and sipping on your mug. Your dad must have been up for a while, the coffee is already cooled to a drinkable temperature. 

“Buddy, I think we need to talk.” Your dad says after a few beats of silence. 

Your shoulders slump with the weight of the conversation yet to happen. 

“I’m worried about you. You nearly passed out yesterday. I couldn’t really understand most of what you said last night, but I want to know what's going on to make you this upset. It’s clearly more than Benny’s passing. Please, just tell me whats wrong.”

You take a breath, deciding how to explain everything to your dad. “You uh, know how I don’t really bring any friends over. Its cause I can count them on one hand. You,” you put up a finger, “Benny,” a second finger rises, “and Jonathan” three fingers for three friends. 

“What about the girls on the team?”

“We’re teammates, not friends. Anyways, as of yesterday a third of my friends is dead. And for some inexplicable reason, he killed himself. Benny, happy Benny, shot himself. And I was one of the last people to see him. That night…a kid showed up in the kitchen. A runaway, I think. Anyways, I offered to stay in the diner to keep an eye on her and Benny let me go home. I keep going back to that night. I keep replaying it in my head on loop. And I keep wondering…If I had stayed maybe–maybe he’d still be here. And then there's the whole Jonathan thing…His kid brother has been missing since Sunday night. I was with Jonathan that night. He came into the diner right before close and I let him stay late. Thats probably when Will went missing. If I’d just–”

Your dad set his hand on your clenched fist.

“If I had just made him go home, Will might not be lost, or it would've been noticed sooner or something. I just…I keep letting things happen.”

“Letting things happen?”

“You know, not doing anything. I just…I feel so passive and I feel like lately its been having consequences.”

“Then don’t be passive.”

“What?”

“Well, if you think that being passive is causing trouble, then start taking action.”

You think back to yesterday’s events. You, paralyzed to act, as Jonathan’s camera is destroyed. You think back farther, to not saying anything when Ms Henderson didn’t notice the song until you were seconds away from snapping. Not stopping your dad as he left you alone. Agreeing to leave Eleven and Benny. Letting Jonathan stay late at the diner. 

The guilt eats you alive. Your entire life, you’ve done things because it was easier than fighting. You joined volleyball because your middle school teacher had asked you to. You worked at Benny’s because he needed a hand taking orders. You didn’t even put up a fight when your mom left. 

“I don’t think I know how.”

“So we’ll start small. You’ll take a day for yourself. I’ll stay home with you and you’ll tell me how today is going to go. Every step of the day is your choice, not mine, not anyone else’s. your’s”

Even now you can’t seem to say no to your dad. 

“...okay”

“So what’s first?”

“Can you call my coach? I don’t want her to think I’m skipping for anything dumb. And,” you pause, gauging his reaction, “can I go back to sleep for a bit?”

“Of course, buddy. I love you.”

“I love you too dad.”

You slowly head back to your room

You don’t sleep. Instead, you sit on the floor, back against the door. You sift through your music collection. None of it sounds appealing. One album stands out amongst the others: Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell. You’d been listening to it on Sunday. Sunday feels like it was years ago

You turn the cassette over in your hands. It was borrowed from Jonathan last week, but you’d yet to return it. You gently remove it from the case and put it in your walkman. sticking the headphones on yourself, you fall into the memory of him lending it to you,

It was another slow, late night at the diner. Benny was doing inventory in the back while you were up front, chatting with Jonathan, the lone patron of the diner. 

“What is this?” you asked, the station he’d changed the radio to was playing an unfamiliar tune. 

“The Talking Heads,” he answered, “you like ‘em?”

“I don’t know. It sounds kinda weird.”

“Yeah,” he laughed lightly, “that's kinda the point. They’re not conforming to the general population’s perception of good music.”

You frowned, “So I’m the general population?”

Jonathan looked at you plainly, “I mean…yeah. I’m sorry, but every time I come in here it's either Kenny Rogers, or Dolly Parton, or Glen Campbell.”

“That's not all I listen to. It’s just that Benny likes it and it's literally his diner,” you respond, “there’s plenty of other stuff I like–like Elton John! And Simon and Garfunkel and Linda Rondstadt and David Bowie and–”

“Okay okay! I get it” he said throwing his hands up in surrender, but you weren’t done

“The Police and Billy Idol–”

“Wait,” he interrupted again, “You like Billy Idol?”

That gave you pause. “Uh…I mean, yeah, he’s cool.”

“Have you listened to Rebel Yell?” he asked excitedly.

“Oh no,” you replied awkwardly, “I uh, haven’t managed to get my hands on it.”

“Here!” He materialized the cassette from somewhere within his bag, “you can borrow this.”

“Oh,” you were shocked. You wouldn’t have expected him to give over the tape that readily. You’d pegged him as the type to keep his music to himself. He prided himself on his superior taste, whereas your taste was too eclectic for you to be pretentious about it 

“Thanks!” 

You really had meant to just listen to it once and return it, but it kept poking out from your bag while you did your homework. You listened to it again the next day on your drive, and again while jogging. Jonathan never asked for it back, and you never brought it up either. 

The tape stopping pulls you from your reverie. You yank the headphones off and stick the walkman back in your bag. 

You put the box of cassettes up and crawled into bed. The fan blows air at the windows, moving your curtains. Every so often, you caught a glimpse of the outside. The sky is gray, casting a sad shadow over the trees in your yard. You pull the curtains back even more, resting your cheek against the cool glass. Every so often, a car passes by. The wind knocks down leaves from the trees. When you breathe, the glass fogs up. 

You flop back on the bed, no longer feeling tired. No longer feeling anything. There's nothing left to feel. You recognize the emptiness. It's a comfort that you’ve often turned to. Shutting yourself out and going on autopilot. You know exactly how to act so that everyone thinks you’re fine, but the reality is that your smiles don’t go all the way and your laughs are a hollow ringing in your own ears. 

You haven’t had to shut down in a while. You forgot how nice the nothingness is. 

You don’t sleep, but laying in your bed with nothing but the fan and the gentle noises from outside feels good. You finally rise from your bed, your stomach grumbling from negligence. You quietly open your door. The floor is cold against your unsocked feet. 

“Hey buddy, feeling better?” Your dad asks from his spot on the couch, where he is watching reruns of MASH. You nod at him and give him a smile. “What’s next on the agenda?” his answer comes in the form of your stomach growling. You both laugh, but his is louder. "Could we go get some food in town?” you ask him.

“You got it, what’ll it be?” 

“I could go for some pizza,” you shrug.

You grab your bag and hop in his car. You watch from the passenger seat as the trees fly by and begin to fade into the familiar buildings of downtown Hawkins. He pulls into his parking spot behind the Radio Shack and ducks around the car to open the door for you. “After you,” he says, a goofy grin on his face. 

The walk to the pizza place is short and your dad rambles about a radio he donated to the middle school AV club the whole time. You recall him mentioning how he started the club in his youth. He speaks vigorously and you have trouble understanding everything he means, but its sweet how passionate he is about it. Its one of the things you admire most about the man. When he loves something, he loves it truly and deeply. 

He once again opens the door for you when you arrive. You claim a table while he puts your order in at the counter. He returns with a flag with the number eleven on it. The reminder of the sweet little girl gives your heart a twinge, and you quickly let the numbness consume it. 

“Scott was telling me how excited all the boys were on Monday when they saw it. Did you know the Henderson kid is in the club?” he asks you.

“No, I didn’t. Good for him,” you answer. 

“Yeah...speaking of clubs, how's volleyball going?” it's clear he’s trying to make conversation.

You know that your dad needs this. He needs to know that you’re okay, that you’re not slipping away from him, that he’s doing his job as a dad correctly. You could never deny him this kindness, so you fill the void of silence, “It’s going pretty well. Coach wants me to try libero, since Casey’s graduating next year, but I think I’m better as a setter. We’ll see.”

A server comes with a tray of pizza for your table. Your dad continues to ask you about volleyball, school, anything to keep you talking. You play along and answer his questions while eating. 

After three slices, you have to make the choice of eating another. You decide not to make yourself sick and have your dad flag down the server to ask for a to go box. 

Again he opens the door for you on the way out. The pizza settles in your stomach and you feel some of the sluggishness from the morning begin to wear. Your dad tucks his arm around you in the walk back and you huddle closer, grateful for the warmth he radiates. 

Across the street, you see a familiar figure and are reminded of the cassette you’d stashed in your bag earlier. “Hey dad,” you pull yourself from his arm, “I’m gonna go say hi to Jonathan.”

“Okay, I’ll be in the shack.”

He departs for his store as you head across the street. As you approach the boy, you can tell something is wrong.

“Jonathan,” you call out to him as you jog to catch up. He is hunched over and when he finally looks up at you his brows are furrowed and his eyes are bloodshot. “Jonathan?” you say again, softer this time.

“Will died” he spits the words from his mouth like they're venom. You blink slowly, letting the emptiness that resides within you absorb this information. The cassette is all but forgotten as you gently pull him into a hug. He barely hangs onto you, but you can feel how he shakes. 

Still holding onto him you glance around then ask, “Where’s your mom?”

He grips you tighter at that, “She’s convinced he’s alive, that he’s living in our walls. She thinks he’s being hunted by a monster. But I just–I just came from the morgue. Y/n, his body was so small.”

He hiccups and you squeeze him, “Jonathan, I’m so sorry.”

You pull away, letting him wipe the tears from his face with his sleeves. He hiccups again again and you rub his back in slow, small circles as he catches his breath. He needs this, his mother is gone so there is no one to comfort the boy. You'll be that pillar for him, a shoulder for him to cry on. "What are you gonna do?" you ask.

“I have to plan his funeral…pick out a coffin.” he says slowly, as if he's just now realizing what he needs to do.

He collapses back onto your shoulder, just like on Tuesday night. Except on Tuesday, he still had hope. Now, the despair rolls off him in waves. He is in no position to make decisions by himself. 

Your dad’s words from this morning echo in your mind and you decide this will not be something you just let happen again. You can use your emotionless state to help him–so you do. 

“Do you want some company?”

He nods sadly against your shoulder and very subtly tries to wipe his tears before he picks his head back up. You hold out your elbow for him and he holds onto it. You lead him to the funeral home. 

“I’m gonna call my dad real quick, will you be okay for a minute?” you ask outside, eyeing the payphone. He nods quietly and you fish out the correct change from your bag. You dial the number to the Radio Shack and wait as rings thrice before your dad’s familiar voice greets you.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Hawkins Radio Shack, this is Bob, how can I help you?”

“Hey dad, its Y/n.”

“Buddy, where are you?”

“I’m at the funeral home…Jonathan’s brother died. I’m gonna make sure he’s not alone right now. I wanted to let you know.”

“Oh no, poor kid. You’re doing the right thing, Y/n. You’re a good friend. I love you and I’m proud of you. Let the Byers know that I’m thinking of them.”

“Will do. I love you too, dad.”

You hang up and head inside to Jonathan, who is already talking to a salesman. You hear him discuss a walnut casket as you sidle up Jonathan and place a gentle hand on his arm to alert him to your presence. 

“Now, I don’t know what your budget is,” the man says softly, “but over here we have  copper and bronze.” the pair of you silently follow him to the other caskets. Jonathan stops and you look past him to see Nancy in the door. She looks like she wants to talk. “Could we just have a minute?” you ask the salesman and he gives you an understanding nod. 

You approach the timid girl. She looks up at Jonathan and says, “Your mom, she said you’d be here. I just,” you prepare to hear her offer condolences but she surprises you. “Can we talk for a second?”

You follow the girl out into the hall and stand over Jonathan’s shoulder as the pair sit on a bench. Nancy pulls out the taped-back-together photos from yesterday. “I noticed something behind Barb,” she begins and hands them to Jonathan, “I can’t tell what it is, but it’s weird right?”

As she mentions it, you do see a figure shrouded in shadow behind the immortalized girl on the diving board. 

“I see it.” you tell her. She looks up at you, hope shining in her eyes. “It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion,” Jonathan tells you both, and the hope begins to fade from her face. “I wasn’t using a wide angle. I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone else out there?” she probes.

“No,” he answers, “just Y/n later on, but Barb…she was there one second and gone. I figure she bolted”

“What were you doing there?” Nancy asks you.

“Its kind of a long story…I saw Jonathan’s car and got worried. I didn’t see anyone else though.” 

“Did you see Barb?” she interrogates further. 

“No, I’m sorry.”

“The cops think that she ran away, but they don’t know Barb.” You’re ashamed to admit to yourself that you hadn’t even noticed the girl was missing. You don’t know the younger girl, but when you try to recall her, you remember her in the hallways, a soft smile on her face and Nancy attached to her hip. 

 The numbness begins to wane as you consider everything that’s happened in the past week. Eleven, Benny, Will, and now Barbara. At this point, it can no longer be a coincidence. Nancy’s voice breaks through your train of thought, “And I went back to Steve's and I thought I saw something. Some weird man or…I don’t know what it was.” 

With the reveal of the mysterious figure, it's like trying to put together a puzzle, but all the pieces are from different boxes. The pieces fit, but the picture looks weird. “I’m sorry. I–I shouldn’t have come here today,” she gets up to go. “I’m so sorry.”

Before she can fully leave, Jonathan speaks up, “What’d he look like?” he asks and you remember what he told you earlier, about his mom thinking Will was still alive and being hunted. Could she be right? Its an insane thought, you tell yourself. Jonathan saw the body in the morgue. 

“What?” Nancy turns around to look at him. 

“Jonathan, you don’t think…” you begin, but he ignores you, looking imploringly at Nancy. “This man you saw in the woods, what’d he look like?”

You hold your breath as you stand between the two, and Nancy tries to explain, “I don’t know, it almost like he didn’t ha–”

Jonathan finishes the thought for her, “Didn’t have a face?”

“How did you know that?”

“Jonathan, is there a way to see the picture better?” You ask, grabbing the photo from Nancy’s hand and pointing at the figure. “If this…thing is what got Barb, and it's hunting Will…we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I guess…I’d need the dark room at the school though.”

“Great, where are you parked?”

“Y/n…”

“Lets go.” you turn and make your way back to downtown. The others follow behind hot on your tail. Jonathan jogs ahead of you to lead you to his car. You arrive and he fumbles for his keys, dropping them in the process. 

He finally unlocks the car and you pile in. On the drive there, you explain to them your thoughts. 

“I think there's something abducting people. On Monday, there was a little girl at the diner. I thought she was a runaway, but what if she wasn’t running from home. What if she was running from whatever thing is. It would explain the weird timing. And then she suddenly vanished again?”

“And Barb went missing the next day…” Nancy picks up your line of thinking. 

“Exactly!” you respond, “I still don’t understand how Benny fits into this, but–”

“Wait,” she interrupts, “Benny? Like ‘Benny's Burgers’ Benny? What does he have to do with this?”

Oh. She doesn’t know.

“Benny…he was found dead the morning after we found the kid. She was nowhere to be seen”

“How do you know that?”

“I, uh, I work there. I was the last one, beside the girl, to see him. The police took me in for questioning. I’ve been trying to figure everything out since then, but…I just don’t understand why he shot himself.”

“Maybe he survived this thing but couldn’t handle it?” Jonathan offers.

“Yeah, like the vets from ‘nam…I had an uncle that fought and came back from that and…” Nancy trails off. You realize how truly little you two know about each other, despite living in a small town where everyone gossips. You don’t dwell on it, though, as Jonathan parks outside the school. 

“How are we gonna get in? School’s been out for a while, it's probably locked.” the boy asks, getting out of the car. You’re already making your way to the gym. “Follow me!” you yell at them. “The coaches never lock this door,” you explain as you lead them to a side entrance. You hold the door for them as they enter. 

The three of you make your way to the dark room. Jonathan prepares the negatives. Neither you nor Nancy understand exactly what he’s doing to the film. 

Nancy asks him, “and you’re?”

He answers, “Brightening. Enlarging.”

“Did your mom say anything else? Like, where it might have gone to, or…” Nancy asks him further

“Nope, just that it came out of the wall.”

The machine dings and Jonathan removes the page, dipping it in some liquid. The picture slowly starts to develop and the three of you crowd around it. It's silent for a moment before Nancy begins speaking again, “How long does this take?” 

“Not long.” Jonathan responds

The waiting is killing you. You tap your fingers against the table as you stare at the paper. 

“Have you been doing this long?” Nancy seems to be like your dad. Unable to endure silence. 

“What?” Jonathan asks, indulging her questioning. 

“Photography.”

“yeah…I guess I’d rather observe people, than…”

“Talk to them?”

As the pair talk, you feel an all too familiar feeling creep up on you. Your rush of figuring out the mystery from earlier is starting to wear off the realization sinks in that whatever is about to reveal itself has already taken a life, if not three more. You hold yourself completely still so as not to alert the others of your impending panic. Your knuckles are nearly white from how tightly you grip the edges of the table. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

You hold onto the comfort of your numbers, willing them to be the only thing on your mind. You slowly tune back into the conversation, the emptiness settling back in. 

“Its just sometimes, people don’t always say what they’re really thinking. But you capture the right moment,” Jonathan says, leaning closer to Nancy. “It says more.”

“What was I saying?” Nancy gives him a gentle, almost kind, smirk “When you took my picture?”

Even in the red light, you can tell he’s blushing. “I shouldn’t have taken that. I’m sorry.”

You glance away, not wanting to intrude on whatever intimate moment they’re having. The picture has developed before your eyes, and a grotesque figure looms above Barb. Its a horrifying sight. There is no way this thing is human. Its huge and though it stands upright, its limbs are more animal than man. 

“Nancy…” you interrupt their intense eye contact. “Is this what you saw?”

Her eyes dart away from the boy and down onto the picture. 

“Oh my god…thats it,” she gasps.

“My mom,” Jonathan breathes out, “I thought she was crazy ‘cause she said thats not Will’s body. That he’s alive.”

“And he’s alive–” nancy begins

“Barb and Eleven are too” you finish. 

Jonathan drives the both of you home, “We’ll need a plan, like a real actual plan,” you explain logically, “When are you guys free tomorrow?”

“Well, uh, the funeral is tomorrow, so after that.”

You rub a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, though your theory about Will could be true, it doesn’t change the fact that tomorrow will be a sad day. 

“We’ll need information too. Like everywhere this thing has been”

The car pulls into the Wheeler’s driveway and Jonathan looks at Nancy before she leaves, “Meet us at my car tomorrow.”

She nods resolutely at him, then at you. Alone in his car, you listen to the sounds of the Clash. “This,” Jonathan nods towards the radio, “was Will’s favorite song?”

“Is,” you correct him. “Will’s still alive.”

Jonathan huffs out a gentle, “yeah.”

“Anyway, really? He's like 11, I’m surprised his favorite song isn’t Rainbow Connection or something.”

Jonathan has a faraway look in his eyes, one that tells you he’s not really paying attention to your attempts to cheer him up. “Jonathan,” you begin, “I’m serious. He’s gonna be okay.”

“But what if he isn’t,” he rebuts, “what if we fight this thing and it's too late and he’s still gone?”

Jonathan pulls up to your house and parks, but doesn’t look at you. His grip on the steering wheel is tight. “What if we lose and I’ve failed him again…I can’t do that.”

You scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around him and lean your head on his shoulder. He grabs your arms, grateful for the comforting touch. 

“He’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna save him– and Barb and Eleven. I promise. We’re gonna bring them home.”

He says nothing, just nods against you. You lose track of how long the two of you sit in his car. You don’t dare break away. He needs this. You’ve known the boy for years, but feel like you didn’t actually know anything about him until this week. He’s like you. He doesn’t quite understand how to connect to people, so the people he has in his life are terribly important and all consuming. For a long time, Jonathan just had his mom and Will–you just had your dad and Benny. Then you had each other. Now you both have Nancy.

You couldn’t save Benny, but you could do this for them. You could save their people. You think of the little girl that came in all dirt and grime and skin and bones. You picture her contagious smile as she tried milkshakes–her big doe eyes looking up at you–and you hope that she will be a permanent addition to your small collection of people. You decide she will be, once you defeat this thing. 

Next Chapter

Tags: @ucannotcompare

[leejenowrld]

and now i’m even more convinced nabi should’ve told jeno, because from your other asks you’ve hinted that taeyong is STILL manipulating him when he’s fully into adulthood. it probably would’ve been best for jeno to find out sooner rather than fully into adulthood. i imagine it’d fuck him up SO much more if he were to find out his dad was manipulating him his ENITRE LIFE into his adult NBA career. especially assuming he’s not as ‘rebellious’ since he’s no longer a young adult. he’s less likely to challenge authority.

i mean at the very least nabi should’ve told the truth at the very least about the nba thing… i think she should have some more faith in jeno’s self-confidence, i don’t think he would’ve been that destroyed tbh. like those are his stats. it’s equivalent to nabi’s exhibition but sent just sent to the NBA? and he knew she was doing reports on players because of the project anyway. i think he would’ve understood.

even if it hurts it’s the right thing to do, especially if it’s someone you care about. they deserve to know the truth. not knowing has never not caused harm. someone as smart as nabi should know that. it’s really interesting how someone so analytical and level-headed can be so illogical when it comes to jeno.

i think her biggest flaw is that she’s so used to being the smartest in the room, she genuinely doesn’t think she could ever be wrong. it’s also a problem that the people around her never question her. (you should always question people! no matter how smart they are! that’s how either you learn or they learn!!!). nabi always feels guilty for hurting jeno through her actions, but she never stops and considers another way to do things. she kind of treats it like a necessary evil. but it’s really not.

you can this mindset kind of backfire because it seems jeno slowly gives up on her, since he’s the one always chasing after her (when she comes and goes on a whim). he probably got tried during long distance, and just in general tbh.

(2/3)

all i will say is that the taeyong arc runs deeper than anything you think you know already lol. i don’t wanna spoil anything so i can’t say more, it’s gonna be worth the wait. y/n was protecting him from the realisation that even with the chains cut, jeno still lived like they were wrapped around his throat. that’s what she couldn’t bring herself to hand him on a silver platter. she didn’t want him to look at his own life and wonder how much of it had been stolen without him even noticing. she thought she was sparing him from a lifetime of wondering was it ever mine to begin with?

and about the nba report. this is such a good point, because i completely see why you’re saying he might’ve understood, especially considering it was based on his actual stats and performance. you’re right in theory. but the thing with jeno is, and this is the tragedy, he doesn’t separate success from love. you have to remember how he sees y/n: she’s not just a girl he loves, she’s the anchor between his two worlds, the thing that makes his talent feel real instead of something manufactured by his father. so if he’d known she sent the report, he wouldn’t have questioned her accuracy — he would have questioned her motives. did you believe in me? or did you pity me? he might’ve spiralled into thinking she only did it out of guilt or love, not because he genuinely deserved it. jeno lives in extremes. he always has. and y/n knows that better than anyone. she wasn’t scared of the truth itself — she was scared of what jeno would make of that truth, how it would eat him alive. he is always her muse.

now, i really love this line you wrote: “even if it hurts it’s the right thing to do, especially if it’s someone you care about. they deserve to know the truth.” and i agree with you, honestly. but here’s the nuance: y/n cares so much that it clouds her judgement. she’s not logical about jeno because her feelings are too enormous to stay clean. she knows the truth matters. she knows he deserves it. but her love for him is so bound up in protection that she convinces herself that silence is love. that shielding him is mercy. she saw how fragile he was during the game and what that cost so she made a snap decision, in that moment, to keep him safe from himself. was it the right choice? no. but it wasn’t cold calculation. it was love at its most desperate, its most flawed. and that’s where her downfall lies.

ok i wanted to talk about this “her biggest flaw is that she’s so used to being the smartest in the room, she genuinely doesn’t think she could ever be wrong.” this is interesting, i see it but it’s not fully true. y/n isn’t someone who refuses to be questioned, she’s constantly questioned. by mark, by karina, by donghyuck (especially him), by even jeno himself, who challenges her worldview every time they clash. a lot of the moments you may not see but in the fic, from the top of my head i can recall the intervention, the times she clashed with mark, shotaro giving her quiet and gentle challenges. they do challenge her. and y/n isn’t arrogant in her intelligence, if anything, she’s self-punishing. she questions herself obsessively, she reruns scenarios in her mind until she’s raw, but the problem is, she doesn’t believe anyone else can carry the burden, so she keeps the weight on her own shoulders even when people try to share it. it’s less “i’m always right” and more “if i mess this up, no one will catch us.”

alsooo what u said here “nabi always feels guilty for hurting jeno through her actions, but she never stops and considers another way to do things. she kind of treats it like a necessary evil. but it’s really not.” could you explain this a lot more? i’m genuinely intrigued, because you’re brushing up against something really fascinating here. are you saying she acts out of inevitability, like she believes her choices are pre-determined? or that she chooses the hard way because she thinks it’s the only way? because i think you’re half-right — y/n often does treat her sacrifices as necessary evils, but not out of arrogance. it’s out of fear. she believes that pain is inevitable, so if someone has to bleed, it better be her. but i’d love to know what you think more deeply here, because you’ve picked up on an instinct that’s so worth exploring.

(you’re sending me some amazing asks i’m not wanting to shut up) so i also want to highlight something softer, something deeper, and maybe something you were never meant to see in full until later. the intimate moments between her and jeno were always understated, quieter than the noise of their public chaos, but no less real. y/n did not withhold the truth because she thought she knew better in some cold, detached way. it wasn’t arrogance — it was fear, the kind of fear that only comes from loving someone so completely it terrifies you. she wasn’t playing chess with his heart. she was scared of placing that truth in his hands, scared of watching him unravel under the weight of it. jeno wasn’t as unbreakable as he looked. she saw it — in the quiet aftermaths, in the cracks behind his eyes. he was her soft spot, her blind spot. she didn’t trust him to survive the truth not because she didn’t trust him, but because she couldn’t bear to watch him be broken by it. and maybe that was the real tragedy: not arrogance, not cold logic, but love — desperate, protective, misguided love, the kind that makes you do the wrong thing for what you believe is the right reason.

also spoilers but she made him promise to stay in contact. not casually. not as a throwaway plea. she made him promise. you guys haven’t seen the full scene as i only showed you about 300 words out of the 5-10k word scene that it is but it’s insane. she gave him that final, raw moment of vulnerability, cracked herself open in front of him before he left, placed her heart — and his responsibility to her — directly in his hands. and he didn’t keep that promise. not properly. not consistently. not in the way she needed, not in the way they both deserved. there were messages left on delivered, calls gone unanswered, headlines splashing across media of jeno in hotel bars and nightclubs, of him with other women, feeding rumours that not only hurt but humiliated her. so while it’s true she kept too much inside, it’s also true that he let go of the rope. he stopped reaching out as much as he should have. he drifted. he chose, slowly, maybe even subconsciously, to pull away.

and here’s the brutal part, the part i think you really understand deeply already: the breakdown of their relationship is not just about one person making a mistake. it’s not just y/n keeping secrets. it’s not just jeno pulling away. it’s the collision of both of their flaws, at the worst possible time. they were both tired. they were both proud. they were both waiting for the other to make the first move back — and neither of them did. also lee taeyong in act two isn’t what you’ll expect at all. it will make you feel insane, you’ll scream “how could i have missed that?” the tension is there, yes, and it’s a live wire that runs dangerously close to everything in jeno’s career and psyche but i won’t spoil it. you’ll understand when it unfolds why i’ve been so tight-lipped. it will be worth it. it will land. and it will hurt in all the right ways.

but please, please remember this: their breakup was never about one mistake. it was the quiet accumulation of wounds, the thousand small cuts that finally bled them dry. they both failed each other, and they both know it. that’s what makes it hurt so much. because love — as they learned too late — is not just about passion. it’s about patience. it’s about persistence. it’s about choosing each other even when the fire dies down to embers. and they didn’t. not this time.

[01131974]

Hey yo, I really like your hc and they look like mine like two drops of water! And I have a juicy question... What was their first time like?

gonna mash these two asks together cuz they're similar in nature!

it's hard to say how it would start. i think it would take a while for lee to warm up to dale as a constant presence in her life, let alone feel sexual feelings towards him. though maybe it wouldn't take that long. maybe those feelings were in lee all along, just sitting dormant in her until she's actually fully alone with dale, then all that repressed sexual frustration bubbles up in her.

the shame would eat her alive first, before anything else. how could she ever forgive herself if she let him do something like that do her? after all he's done? the guilt would swarm within her until it becomes curdled into want, the humiliation of it all contorting itself into a sick taboo desire.

it starts off slow. she starts reciprocating the little bits of affections he gives her, leaning in to his hugs and letting him play with her hair without putting up the usual fuss. then she's actively seeking him out, going down into the basement to ask if he needs anything and ending up hanging out with him on his bed, watching him play guitar and tell stories about his brief time on stage.

as soon as dale finds out dirty things fluster her, oh, that's all he ever talks about after that. he loves slipping in something obscene in the middle of a casual conversation, turning every little thing lee could say into a foul innuendo. if she keeps up her stoic nature, he just goes further and further; eventually he's groping himself and moaning like a pornstar if the other stuff doesn't get lee to crack. seeing her face turn white to crimson is everything to dale. it's hell for lee, though. it doesn't make her feelings towards him any better. especially when his dirtiness go from jokes to actively flirting with her.

dale had already resigned himself to a lonely fate. he would've never expected lee to actually respond to his dirty talk... his sweet little angel, being fond of someone like him? he'd be floored! what would he do with himself if lee said something filthy back to him? responding to one of his quips with something equally as sinful... ooh, how could he ever control himself around her when she acts like that! when she leans into his touch and looks up at him with those dirtsy flirtsy ol' angel bitch eyes, with her perfect little mouth muttering something lewd.

he doesn't deserve her. he could never ever do anything to her without her say-so, but lee is so awkward and passive that she can't muster the courage to actually initiate anything, so for a while it's this playful back and forth. the sexual tension between them during this time was so thick you could cut it with a knife. eventually something actually comes of their little game...

either way, it'd be slow, and wordless, they already understand eachother so well they don't need to speak outloud about what they're doing. little touches here, and there, gently peeling the other's clothing off. i like to think that it would take them a while to actually have sex. the most they do for now is french kiss in dales bed and grinding against each other to completion. sooner than later one of them is gonna break the kiss and ask the other if they're ready... i have to wonder which one it would be!

[walker-extended-universe]

It'll Be Okay

Relationships: Cassie Perez & Cordell Walker, August Walker & Cordell Walker & Stella Walker, Colton Davidson/Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e18 Search and Rescue, Gunshot Wounds, Hospitals, Surgery, Guilt, Feels, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Because there's no way that little trailer got pelted with bullets and the only thing that got hit was Cordell's hat

A/N: Fic finally brought to you by people voting for it during my polls :)

Taglist (if you would like to be added let me know): @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @neptunium134, @itsjessiegirl1

----

Liam’s phone rang on his way back after his talk with Dan. “Hello?”

“Finally you pick up!” James’ frustration was palpable over the line. “Where the hell have y’all been? I’ve been trying to get you on the phone for hours!”

Well, that couldn’t be good. “Woah, sorry, we were at the nature park trying to find Stella and August. Cell service was really bad out there. What’s going on?”

“I- Look, there’s a lot to explain but the basic story is we were checking up on a lead and we got ambushed. Walker got hit with a few bullets and it’s not looking good. They’ve got him in the ICU right now.. He’s alive and stable but he’s not out of the woods yet. Get here now.” He rattled off the address and Liam made a note in his phone before his brain had time to catch up with what he’d just heard. 

Well fuck. Looks like the family wasn’t done for the night.

—------------------

Cordell was sedated and put on a ventilator to give his body time to recover. He’d undergone surgery to remove the bullets and patch the wounds. It wasn’t the first time his family had seen him like this but, with Emily’s death only two years prior, it wasn’t easy to see. 

Three bullet wounds. Major blood loss. Internal bleeding. Minor organ damage. 3 hours in surgery. The surgery had gone as well as could be expected and the doctors were optimistic but stressed that the next few hours would be critical. It was very much still a situation of if he would be okay rather than when. 

Unlike the Walkers, Cassie had other things to occupy herself with than just her partner’s survival. “Why wasn’t I called sooner?” she demanded from James. “He’s my damn partner; if something goes down, I need to know!”

He sighed and rubbed his temple with the hand that wasn’t caught in a sling. “Perez, we were investigating a lead. It was my lead and I asked Walker to accompany me. We didn’t need you there and frankly I’m glad you weren’t. As for why I didn’t call you after he was shot, I was a little preoccupied with figuring out why all the Walkers and our DA had suddenly gone AWOL. I’m not proud of it but I meant no slight against you. Besides, there’s something else you need to know.” He explained the phone call with Rita that set them on the investigation in the first place. “We weren’t sure what to expect and I didn’t want to give you any false hope so we kept you out of the loop. We did end up finding something before we got ambushed though.” He gestured behind her and a very familiar face stepped into their small waiting room.

“Miles?”

—---------------------------------

After an hour of sitting in Dad’s room in the ICU with no updates, Stella got antsy and decided to get up for some of the “coffee” they had in the waiting room. She didn’t have her wallet or she might’ve gone to the cafeteria to get a real drink or something to eat, not that she felt like eating anything. She just couldn’t stand to wait there any longer.

Her dad was strong and he’d been in these situations before. But after losing Mom two years ago and almost losing Colton earlier today, she was all too aware of all the potential outcomes, especially the bad ones.

She found a coffee station, poured herself a cup, and blindly walked around as a distraction. She’d been in hospitals many times before (she was pretty sure she was a frequent flier at this location in particular) but she never got used to how quiet they could be. It was one thing in an emergency, when everyone was running around and machines were going off and the air was charged with knowing that something was happening. But those brief moments weren’t the norm.

Hospitals were a dreadful place of quiet. It was a place where grieving family members said goodbye to their loved ones. It was a place where people sat, chained to their beds, knowing there was nothing to be done but wait for the all-clear. It was a place where medical debt was handed out like candy, killing any happiness someone might’ve had from knowing their mother or father or sister or son wasn’t dead after all. For every happy recovery story, there were at least five tales of woe.

She hated hospitals.

“Stella?”

A voice startled her from her thoughts and she turned to see Dan Miller poking his head out of one of the rooms. “Oh, hi Mr. Miller….”

“Call me Dan. What’re you doing here? Did you come to check on Colton?”

She bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him that his family wasn’t the center of the damn universe.. He probably just didn’t know and it’s not like that was a crazy assumption to make. “Uh, not. I’m…. I’m here for my dad. He got shot on a case and we’re all worried…..”

Dan blanched and he sheepishly glanced away. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” she said reflexively. “How is Colton, by the way?”

“On the mend. The doctor says he can probably go home tomorrow, they just want to keep an eye on him overnight.”

“That’s good.” At least someone was making it out of this alive. “I’m sorry about everything. I should’ve had my phone charged better and I’m the one that decided to change trails without even telling August-”

“It’s okay,” Dan said. “I know today was hectic but…. It could’ve been a lot worse. And it wasn’t. Because you stepped up.”

She nodded and pretended to take the compliment. “I try. Do… Do you mind if I visit Colton? We’re just waiting to hear about Dad and….” And I need something to do or I’m going to lose my mind.

“Uh, yeah, he’s just down the hall. Room 232.”

She nodded and walked past him towards the room. She hesitated outside the door before going in. She didn’t want to bother Colton but she had to see for herself that he was okay. She softly knocked on the door as she entered. “Hey….”

Colton looked up from his phone and smiled at her. “Hey. I didn’t think you were coming to visit me tonight.”

“I wasn’t,” she admitted. “My dad is in right now. I’m just… Trying to kill time while we wait for news.”

“What happened?”

She fiddled with her empty coffee cup. “He got shot. Not our first time dealing with that. The doctors think he’ll be okay but we’re still waiting on confirmation.”

“I’m sorry,” Colton said, reaching for her hand.

She took it and sat in the chair next to his bed. “Thanks,” she murmured. “He’ll probably be fine but…. I worry about him. It’s like every time this happens I wonder if this is going to be it. If this is going to be the time he got too unlucky….” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all this.”

“I want to,” he said gently. “I can’t imagine how scary that is, even if you’ve been here before.”

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. “I appreciate that, but I did come here to check on you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Doctor says I can leave tomorrow. You did a good job earlier.”

“I try.” She squeezed his hand. “I know that wasn’t an ideal first date….”

“Maybe not. But it was a memorable one.” He chuckled and she couldn’t help but laugh with him.

—----

It wasn’t until the next day that the doctor’s declared Cordell was out of the woods and on the road to recovery. “You’re very lucky,” they told him after the breathing tube was removed. “We’ll have you out of here in a few days but no going back into the office for at least three weeks. And even then I’m going to recommend desk work only for a while.”

For once, he wasn’t going to argue. This whole mess had been a little too close. With everything going on, he wasn’t going to say no to a little family time. He knew his kids needed to hug him and his mother needed to fuss over him. He got lucky and if the past couple years had taught him anything, it was to not press that luck too far.

They moved him out of the ICU and into a normal room for the duration of his stay. His family was there as soon as visiting hours started. The kids got first hugs and he bit down the grunt of pain when Stella hugged him a little too close to one of the bullet wounds. He just thanked anyone who would listen that he could hug them again. He listened to the story of what happened at the nature park before they got called to the hospital and sent out another “thanks” that his family was still intact.

His parents came in next, followed by Liam. “How are you feeling, baby?” Abilene asked, brushing a few imaginary hairs out of his face.

“Like I got shot,” he muttered. “I’m fine, Mama. Really.”

“Sure you are.”

“What happened?” Liam asked.

“I was checking up on a lead with James and we got ambushed. Guess it was a better lead than we thought,” he tried to joke. “We weren’t prepared for it. Honestly, it could’ve been worse. I’m just glad we can start moving forward.”

“You mean James can start moving forward,” Abby said. “You are resting until the doctor clears you to get back to work.”

“Yes, Mama.”

—---

He could tell something was bothering Cassie from the minute she walked in, as much as she tried to hide it. He may be new to being her partner, but he knew her well enough to know where her thoughts were.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Blame yourself for this.”

“I-”

“Cassie….” Cordell squeezed her hand. “I know you are. You’re doing that thing where you’re trying not to look at me and pretending you’re fine.”

She sighed. “I just…. It’s my fault you were there in the first place.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly. “The whole operation was James’ idea and neither of us expected that attack. We didn’t even know if there was anything to the lead. It’s absolutely not your fault.”

“I know that,” she said quietly. “But…. This is my thing. I should’ve been there.”

“Maybe,” Cordell said. “But you weren’t. And that wouldn’t’ve changed what happened. I’d probably still be in this hospital bed and you’d probably be in one of your own and then we’d be arguing with you about how much work you’re allowed to do on Miles’ case while you heal.”

“Walker-”

“My point is,” he continued, squeezing her hand again, “This isn’t your fault. There’s nothing for you to feel bad about. It happened, it sucks, but we can’t change it. I’m on the mend and in a few weeks I’ll be back in the office like nothing happened. In the meantime, you’re going to do your job and save your former partner from whatever mess he got himself into. Okay?”

Cassie nodded, squeezing back. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Damn right you can.”

[daandyli0n]

so!! since i'm still thinking about my Fnaf Rewrite,

The Afton Children in the rewrite (order of age):

Alexander "Alex" Afton

the eldest.

15 in 1983, 19 in 1987, 24-25 in 1993.

the Fnaf 1-2 Phone Guy.

the "Foxybro" of this rewrite.

short story summary:

Alex had been a Mama's Boy through and through. His mother's death in childbirth had absolutely devastated him, and he took it out on his younger brother, Cassidy, despite him being only a child. His father's emotional manipulation and abuse following his mother's death, done in a desperate attempt to keep his own children out of trouble and thus out of danger, certainly didn't help matters.

This is not to say that Cassidy was the only family member he lashed out towards. Michael and William generally had to face the brunt of his anger, something that typically led to Mike and Alex being at each other's throats quite often. This is also not to say that Alex didn't love his siblings; he would've traded his life for theirs any day. Unfortunately, his anger and pain outweighed that love.

Cassidy's death changed Alex. He mellowed out a bit, but that mostly came from the guilt that threatened to eat him alive daily. He got a job at Freddy's, mostly at his father's request. He would generally record messages for the employees who worked the nightshift, typically to give company policy updates and advice/orders for their shifts. But as time went on...it became clear that Alex had come to some realizations. Realizations about the skeletons in his father's closet. Specifically, the several child-sized skeletons in his father's closet. One of which he believes might be his brother's.

He's starting to suspect his father's explanation of Cassidy "mysteriously and suddenly" dying in his sleep, when he'd been doing nothing but improving for the past two months prior, might've been a lie.

Maybe Cassidy had gotten suspicious, too. Maybe Dad shut him up, and then covered up his crime as being a "sudden" death.

Unfortunately, Alex never got to find that out while he was alive. His short life ended towards the end of 1993, during one of his last night shifts.

Seems that Cassidy wasn't as forgiving as Alex might have thought he was.

Michael "Mike/Mickey/Mikey/Mick" Afton

the second oldest.

12-13 in 1983, 16-17 in 1987, 22-23 in 1993, 31-32 in 2001, 42-43 in 2012, 44-45 in 2014.

our good old protagonist.

typically the "Night 6" nightguard, although he is the main protagonist, or at least a secondary protagonist, in a few games in this rewrite.

short story summary:

William's spitting image. Michael was, surprisingly enough, the peacekeeper of his household. One of Cassidy's only allies in the house, alongside Elizabeth, Michael was rather close to his baby brother, even going as far to sew a walkie-talkie into his brother's plushie so the two could communicate better when Mike was away.

When Cassidy was brought home from the hospital to recover, Michael, out of guilt for not getting there sooner, is with him every step of the way, even as Cassidy's behavior got more...concerning.

In the aftermath of his brother's death, Mike struggles to hold himself together in his grief. William pushes him to work at Freddy's, supposedly as a distraction of sorts.

It is while working as an employee that Mike starts to suffer more tragedy: Jeremy almost dies from a mangled plastic fox biting down into his skull. Before that, several more children died in that very restaurant. His brother dies in the final restaurant before the company went dormant for a few decades.

Then his father disappears in early 1995, and Michael tries to bury down his trauma. It is when he gets a job to act as a nightguard for the now abandoned Fredbear's Family Diner, that he is forced to confront his past...

and his now dead father.

He's going to make this right. For everybody. For those missing children, for Charlie.

For Cassidy.

Evan Afton

the middle child.

11 in 1983, 28-29 in 2012, 30-31 in 2014.

the lucky one.

doesn't have a main-ish role in story until Fnaf 3 and 6, and even then it's just him keeping in touch with Michael.

short story summary:

Evan steered clear of any family drama, and kept his feelings and grief to himself, mostly. One of the brightest kids in the family, save Mike, Evan's future was a promising one.

He left for college a few states over, and never looked back. Not as everything started going to shit for his family. He only ever really kept in touch with Michael.

Mike considers him lucky. He got a chance to leave before everything went to hell in a gas truck.

Even then, Evan still maintains Cassidy's grave every few months, checking on the flowers and making sure the grave hasn't been disturbed.

He still misses the brother that never really got the chance to live.

Elizabeth "Liz/Lizzy" Afton

the only daughter.

8 in 1982.

the death that set off the chain of dominos.

one of the spirits that haunts Freddy's, just not in "Circus Baby" in the rewrite :) (although it is effectively Baby's equivalent in this rewrite)

short story summary:

Daddy's Girl. His little angel. Her death in 1982 truly sets the plot in motion.

Stuck in a clown hare robot after getting to close to it while it was malfunctioning one day, Liz is more confused than anything else. Why she's still here. Why her big brother killed her baby brother. Why her father killed her friends.

She has complicated feelings on her father towards the end, not sure what to think of the man she once idolized.

Especially after learning what happened to Cass.

Cassidy "Cass/Cassy" Afton

the baby of the family.

5-6 in 1982, 6-7 in 1983.

one of the Fredbear spirits, specifically the Vengeful Spirit.

"The One You Should Not Have Killed."

short(ish) story summary:

Cassidy's birth had also been his mother's death, and the start to his father's mental decline. Socially anxious, and easily frightened, Cassidy had always had hurls of insults and taunts thrown at him from his eldest brother, Alex: "Crybaby," "Scaredy Cat," you get the idea.

Mike and Liz were his only real guardians in that household. Well, aside from his dad, of course. But he worked a lot.

And then he watches Liz die to an animatronic. His simple anxiety soon escalates to trauma, paranoia, fear.

He is comforted by some of Liz's friends from school, who recognize him as her brother. The girls, Gabrielle and Naomi, as well as a couple of other kids, are some of Cass's first friends aside from his siblings. Charlie, Uncle Henry's daughter and a girl that Cass practically considers a sister, is also there for him.

For two months, Cass sneaks away from home to hang out with these kids, to find some distraction from his life. They even get him gifts! It's not even his birthday yet! Charlie even gets a special Fredbear plush from her dad to give to him!

Then Charlie is murdered.

And then those nice kids disappear...

Cassidy takes it all really hard. But at least he still has Mickey...

Then Alex "pranks" him. He's never felt so much pain before...is this what Lizzy felt when she died?

He's apparently in a coma for three days, but it feels like it's been weeks.

He saw all the kids and Charlie there. But they all looked...different. Sadder.

They told him what his dad did to them.

He plays with them. Charlie seems worried, hoping he'll "make it," that he won't end up like them.

He hears Alex apologizing to him and-

He wakes up. His family is there.

Alex looks...relieved.

The next two months are tense. He's feeling better, but...he's angry. Angry that Alex almost killed him. Angry that his father hurt his friends. He hurt Charlie.

Michael hovers around him any chance he gets, like if he isn't careful, Cassidy will die if he looks away for too long. Michael is the only one he really talks to much anymore, because Michael doesn't seem too weirded out by his behavior.

But, unfortunately, his father doesn't seem to enjoy Cassidy’s constant reference to his victims. He takes Cassidy aside, trying to "reason" with him that Cass had only seen them in a coma dream, that what he had heard them say was only something his brain had conjured up while he was between life and death. Cass doesn't believe him.

One night, around two months after The Incident, Cassidy awakens to his father's hands wrapped around his throat. He's only seven, he never stood a chance against his dad.

His father chokes the life out of him and buries his body in the woods. He makes the death out to be a natural one, like Cass had simply died in his sleep. Charlie finds his soul in the woods where he is buried, and she guides him back to Freddy’s, to inhabit the suit that, eventually, in a way, killed him.

Cassidy is angry. At his situation and everyone else's. And worst of all, he'll likely never get justice for his own murder.

But he'll make make sure his father gets what's coming to him.

He is the one his father should not have killed, in that regard.

[hypewinter]

Tim's turn

Dick Jason Damian Cass

Lighthearted

Danny gets reincarnated as Tim's little brother. They grow up thick as thieves so when Tim becomes Robin, Danny finds out rather quickly. Having no desire to be a hero again but also wanting to make sure his brother is safe, Danny helps Alfred on coms. With the help of the knowledge of his past life, he also becomes the resident engineer. No matter what hair brained idea Tim or anyone else comes up with, Danny can build it. This ability isn't used too often though because much to the anguish of Bruce, when Danny starts working on a project, he temporarily develops his brother's atrocious sleeping habits.

Angsty

The Drake parents take Danny with them to their archeological digs because he's too young to stay home with Tim. They're really exasperated about this because Danny takes a lot of time away from their dig time (he's about 2). At one of their digs, when they are at peak annoyance with Danny, they meet a couple hunting for ghosts. When the couple mentions wanting another kid but being unable to have anymore children Janet and Jack get an idea. They tell the couple they can take their son. It is a partial joke but when the couple says sure they think why not? One's enough anyway. When his parents get home without his baby brother and Tim finds out why, he doesn't talk to his parents for months. Meanwhile Danny is constantly crying the first few months he's with the Fentons because he misses his parents. But with his little toddler brain he eventually moves on and forgets about his old family. Tim on the other hand dedicates his whole life to finding his little brother. Whenever he's not working on a case, he's searching for any sign of him. He finally finds a picture of a local hero in a small town in Illinois. His hair may be white and his eyes may be green. He may look older too. But it doesn't matter. Tim would recognize his brother anywhere.

[hughiecampbelle]

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

A/N: This I'd solely based on this fic, which I am in love with :) I ran out of room on the first part and had much more to say lol

Warning: addiction/addiction mention, abuse/neglect

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Waking up at random underground bars, clubs, random streets in the city not knowing where you were or how you got there. It was definitely scary at times, but you were too numb to care

No one carded you, fearing your name more than your safety

Whenever you were hungover, you could hide away in your own bathroom on your own floor of the house, not that your father went looking for you or would seek you out very often, if at all

Everyone in that house knew. Everyone knew and they said nothing. When you got sick all over your clothes, reeking of a seedy bar or covered in glitter from clubbing, a fresh pair would magically show up folded on your bed. When your nose bled from the drugs and you used a white towel, a fresh one would be replaced in no time

You always believed you were being careful, that nothing bad would happen. You thought you were holding up the charade, and in some cases you were. Logan never said anything to you, about anything. As long you showed up and did as you were told, he didn't really care what you did outside of that

A few times you'd overdosed. Purely on accident, in your room, at the bars, at a party. A few times you woke up in the hospital, the closest one, but no one ever showed up. Even when you collapsed in your own home, your father was too busy in his meeting to pick up. Your mother was your emergency contact and she rarely picked up, too. Doctors knew who you were and that was enough to silence them, for better or for worse

It was easier to pretend this problem didn't exist. Like everything, your father ignored it, swept it under the rug

It wasn't until you called your father for help, drunk, high, crying and scared, unsure of where you were in the middle of the night did he reach out to someone, angry you woke him up, getting your brother to come find you. Your last attempt at seeking his love, his care, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to think he'd care in the first place

Connor dropped everything and got to you, seeing just how fragile and lost you really were for the first time. You could barely keep your eyes open. That scared him to death

It took a lot longer than they'd like to admit to realize you had a problem, that this wasn't just the occasional drink

Connor was the first to suggest an intervention. The rest followed, unsure of what to do, ashamed they hadn't seen any of this sooner

Coming off a high left you feeling low, helpless, and now embarrassed your big brother had seen you in that state. It wouldn't be the last time you'd go to rehab, but it would be the first

The anger came back though, it always did, and with nothing to soften the blow you took it out on yourself, on others. Your siblings were the first targets and no matter how many times you apologize, the guilt eats you up alive. Accusing them of not caring about you, of not noticing. In one particular dark moment you even accuse Roman and Kendall in aiding you in your addictions in the beginning, neither of them knowing. Kendall tries to tell Rome it's not his fault, coming to his baby brothers aid. If you could take one thing back, it would have been that. The look on their faces still haunts you

"Rome, I'm so sorry. I should never have-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I know, okay? I know."

You try getting clean on your own, something your sister makes it known she's against, but there's nothing she can do. When you can't get into places, when they refuse to have you again, you do it by yourself, mostly at Connors ranch. It's secluded, far away from your father. Once you stayed at Kens, a few times with Shiv, but you liked being at Con's the most. It's a mess and really you should be somewhere with professionals, but it's only for when you slip up, for when things are mostly stable, if that can even be measured

In the end, rehab is where you end up. More than a few times. When you get your phone back, one of them always makes sure to pick up your weekly call, even when you talk about nothing, like with Roman

You still thank Connor for picking you up that night

"Don't worry about it, I was happy to."

Being in your fathers presence is a major trigger. You try to stay with your mother for a few weeks, but she always grows uneasy with you around. She doesn't believe in your addictions, in any of your problems. She sends you back to Logan without a second thought, thinking you and your siblings are blowing things out of proportion

You got your own place, somewhere free of association from all those terrible years, all that sickness. You invite your brothers and sister often, trying to make it up to them every single day

You've been clean from everything for a year. Connor couldn't be more proud. Everyday you fear you'll go back to the old you and every day you find a reason, no matter how small, not to. Most of the time it's for your brothers and sister. All the shit you put them through, everything they've done for you, all the times they picked you up from rock bottom, it's the least you could do for them

Kendall still sneaks you candy, one of the last vices you can truly indulge in. Your favorite from when you were a kid. He doesn't hold anything you say against you, knowing what that mindset is like. When you feel yourself slipping, you turn to him. You don't always have to say it, sometimes he just knows, he understands

Shiv still helps you out. Straightens your hair, fixes your collar, doing some damage control with the public when they've turned the story on you, looking after you in those small, significant ways like when you were little. She and Con are the ones to ask if you're okay, if you need a place to stay for a few days, anything at all. Sometimes you even take them up on their offers

You and Roman are closer now, too. He seeks you out at events, hugging you harder than anyone else. He's always kissing your head, holding you close. His comments remain snarky, but for you, self-aware. Nothing that goes too far. He'd always got a glass of sparkling water ready for you so you don't have to go near the bar. What you said hurt him beyond words, but he also knows that was the detoxing you speaking, not the real you. Still, he checks how much is in his glass now, trying to make up for the past

Connor is still the only good father figure in the world. Every year you send him a card for fathers day, writing the same long winded note as a thank you to him. He pretends they don't mean the world to him, but he's got each one in a box under his bed. They make him feel so, so loved

It's not easy. It never will be. You still have to see Logan, talk to him, pretend there's anything left of your relationship. God only knows what story he's spun for Marcia. But it gets more bearable knowing you have people on your side now, that Connor, Kendall, Shiv, and Roman all have your back no matter what. You're their baby sibling after all

[battlemaiden13]

Yandere house! What about an SO who covers under the bed after something big happens to scare them, like its their safe space. Who finds it first and are there any that would pull them out by their leg?

WARNING: Yandere, toxic Relations

Sans -He leaves you be. Like he knows where you are, he has cameras practically everywhere in the mansion but he also knows he won’t be much help if you are terrified. Sans is fully aware that he is not in touch with his feelings and he wouldn’t know where to start helping you feel better so he’ll just let you do your thing. If he is the cause of it though he will feel immensely guilty and keep an eye on you until you emerge from your safe place. 

Papyrus -He doesn’t feel anything in this situation, he doesn’t fully understand why you are hiding under the blanket either. He will make some comment about you being sleepy or something before going about his day. If you tell him you were/are scared then he will feel two things: anger and guilt. He is angry that someone would make you feel scared and guilty that he didn’t notice sooner, either way he apologies that he didn’t notice. 

Red -It takes him a long time to find you, he wasn’t looking that hard and he probably didn’t even see you run off. When he does he has no idea why you are hiding so starts yelling at you before physically dragging you out. When he sees the scared look on your face he freezes instantly knowing he’s fuck it up somehow. He lets you go and more angry with himself he will yell again before storming off. He knows this is his fault but with so many emotions running through him he doesn’t know how to react 

Edge -Patiently waits by the side of your bed drinking his tea and reading a book. He doesn’t know what to say to make you feel better but he doesn’t want to leave you alone either. He doesn’t talk or make much sound and will wait for you to come out and tell him when you are ready. If he’s the one who scared you you do get an apology from him that sounds very sincere. 

Blue -Tells you that you're being silly although he does feel very guilty about scaring you. It seems to be a common occurrence and although he doesn’t want you to be scared he isn’t going to change who he is. He’ll suggest the two of you make a blanket fort together. If you refuse though he will drag you out and force you to help with threats. It’s meant to be a good time, you're the one ruining it with your sniffling and crying. 

Orange -He does find you but it depends who you're scared of. If he scared you somehow he might try to explain himself or he’ll leave you alone out of disgust if it was too bad. He really doesn’t like people knowing about his yandere side. If one of the others scared you he plays a very dotting and worried role. Getting you a weighted blanket, some snakes and telling you that everything is going to be ok. 

Berry -Instantly feels like it’s his fault even if it might not have been. He sits with his knees pulled to his chest on the floor next to your bed waiting for you to be ok. Guilt is eating him alive and as soon as you emerge he is apologizing for everything he had done that morning praying that you don’t hate him.

Syrup -You weren’t meant to see that but it can’t be helped. It doesn’t matter if it was him who scared you or someone else his reaction will be the same when he finds you. He gets you a warm drink, a thick blanket to throw over the one you have, a soft toy and some snacks. Placing them near your bed or on your bedside table before leaving you be. He doesn’t say anything but he is trying to make you feel better or at least safer.